


Let's Kiss

by Everilde



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Final Fantasy XIV: Heavensward Spoilers, Final Fantasy XIV: Stormblood, Final Fantasy XIV: Stormblood Spoilers, Fluff, Kissing, Romance, cuteshit, idk i'm bad at tags, prompts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-20
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:42:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22810426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Everilde/pseuds/Everilde
Summary: Various short reader/NPC scenes based on kissing prompts chosen on Twitter!I basically wanted to practice writing in this particular style, so thank you to the followers who picked some for me!Each chapter will have the name of the NPC & the type of kiss as the title.
Relationships: G'raha Tia | Crystal Exarch/Reader, Hien Rijin/Reader, Lyse Hext/Reader, Lyse Hext/Warrior of Light, Papalymo Totolymo/Reader, Papalymo Totolymo/Warrior of Light, Reader/Adalberta, Reader/NPCs, Warrior of Light/NPCs, Yugiri Mistwalker/Reader
Comments: 25
Kudos: 66





	1. Adalberta - Discreetly

**Author's Note:**

> Even though I've maxed the mining class, I remembered very little about Adalberta. I hope this does her justice and if not then I will try again sometime!

Just beyond the Goldsmith’s Guild, beside the garden at the heart of Onyx Lane, a wealthy citizen holds out her hand, brandishing a ring on her finger. A chorus of delighted gasps echo down the dimly lit corridor, praises sung from the lips of her posse, all of them mesmerized by the quality and beauty of the ring. 

And it is a beautiful ring indeed, composed of a violet gemstone that shines in the lighting, making the dim hall seem brighter. 

You catch a glimpse of it in passing and smile, knowing all too well where the praises for such a magnificent jewel are most deserved. 

Another winding corridor sits on the opposite side of the Onyx Lane, this tunnel delving down towards another guild. The walls are lined with crates and barrels, some covered by sheets of a tarp, others open to expose clusters of rock and minerals. 

You take your time wandering down, a hand toying with something nestled in your pocket; a small stone you dug out of a vein while mining. It is a pretty thing, mined from the highlands of Gyr Abania, though relatively worthless (or so the locals claimed). 

But you have not kept it in your pocket, traveling all the way from the highlands to Thanalan, seeking its worth in coin. 

The door to the Mining Guild remains shut. On the other side, the guild members are preparing to retire for the evening. You take your place against the wooden wall across from the door, beside a stack of barrels and burlap sacks.

She isn’t the first to take her leave, but she does remain behind after most others have headed home. A few stay with her, helping to move crates in from the corridor, finishing up last minute tasks. 

The Guildmaster does not notice you at first. You watch her ease right by, counting the remaining crates of ore stored in the hall. 

Ever the hard worker, Adalberta is. It’ll be hours yet before she heads home and she’ll be the first to arrive in the morning, ready and eager to train new miners. You admire that about her, even if you wish she would stop and rest more often. 

She finishes her counting and turns to make her way back inside, but just as she passes by you reach out, seeking her gloved hand. Instinct urges her to reach for the pick-ax strapped to her back, but upon seeing your smirk, Adalberta calms.

Of course, it is only you disturbing her work; it is always you.

“I’ve brought you a gift,” you say, your fingers grasping at the stone in your pocket. 

Before you can present it, she pushes you against the wall, discreetly pressing her lips to yours in the corridor shadows. Barely a moment later the door to the Mining Guild starts to open and she draws back, her kiss no more than a fleeting whisper. 

As Guildmaster she has an image to uphold...

“Let’s see what you’ve brought, then,” she says, clear and stern as two members of the guild fetch more supplies from the hall. 

You recover quickly from a kiss that was all too brief and present the stone. It lays in the palm of your hand, a simple offering. 

“Where did you get this?” Adalberta asks as she carefully takes it, holding it up to the lantern light. 

“Oh, just in the Lochs. I thought it was pretty, maybe worth something.” 

You glance over her shoulder as a hefty Roegadyn woman carries a box to the Guild door, but your eyes are inevitably drawn back to Adalberta. She studies the stone, turning it over and inspecting every inch.

“I’m afraid you’ve wasted your time, this isn’t worth the dirt you dug it out of.” There is a smirk at her lips as she says this, and while her tone may seem normal to others, the teasing is not lost on you. 

You are equally observant of the look in her eyes, the glint of joy and something more, some sense of serenity that your precious stone has brought. She does not erupt into a chorus of praises, but the way she stares at that stone is not unlike the admiration you witnessed in the Onyx Lane, where a woman showed off her exquisite jewel; a jewel that would have never made it onto her ring without the Mining Guild. 

Adalberta may not admit it then and there, but she will always keep this small piece of her homeland close - especially when you travel so far. 


	2. Papalymo - a kiss on a falling tear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You were slow to approach, scared that getting too close would mean losing him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heavy post-Heavensward spoilers!

You have witnessed death. 

You have  _ caused _ death. 

But never has it wounded you as it does now. 

Awake, you manage well enough. There is much to be done, many threats yet to face, and you toss yourself willingly into the work. The others notice but they say nothing, for everyone must grieve in their own way. 

At night, however, it takes considerable effort for you to fall asleep. You tell no one of this. Already they worry, for you and Yda both, and neither of you can handle any more of that. 

You were scared to sleep at first. So many faces have haunted your dreams, have stirred the ache of loss in your heart. For some, time has made their presence a comfort. You are thankful to be with your lost friends again, even if only in the fleeting illusion of your sleeping mind. 

But to see him… 

The fear kept you awake, at least for the first few nights, but lack of sleep has a way of making itself known. Your fellow Scions refused to let you do anything until you’d slept, and with great reluctance you obliged. 

Besides, Papalymo would have been cross with you, had he been there to see it. 

At first, the dreams were tormenting. You would see a glimpse of him in a crowd or hear his voice in a vacant forest. Sometimes you would dream of waking to find him sitting by your bed, a calm smile at his lips. Those were the worst, for the moment you tried to speak to him, you would wake, finding your room empty. 

Eventually, you began to cherish the dreams. They were cruel and left you wanting, but at least they were something; at least he wasn’t fully gone yet. You could handle the silence, the brief glimpses of him, the sensation that he was always there and just barely out of reach. You could pay those costs if it meant seeing him. 

And then the dreams changed. 

He spoke. 

You were in the Black Shroud, on a hill just past the border of trees. Below was a valley, abundant with wildflowers. They stretched endlessly, all the way to the distant horizon, a sea of colors that swayed solemnly in the breeze. 

Papalymo stood at the top of this hill, watching the flowers, his back to you. 

You were slow to approach, scared that getting too close would mean losing him again. Just seeing him was enough, even if it meant silence. 

Oh, but he wasn’t having that. 

“I won’t bite, you know,” he said, his tone just as grumpy as always. When he turns to glance back at you, though, it is with a smile. “Sit with me.” 

You do, and for what feels like an eternity you do nothing else. Papalymo sits beside you and together you watch the wildflowers. With every second you expect him to fade. He lingers just at the corner of your eye and you can feel the warmth of his presence, the gentlest touch of his arm against your own. He is there, more fully than in any dream you’ve had before, and you are terrified of looking at him; you are terrified of chasing this vision away. 

“You’re afraid. Why?” 

“Yes…” You manage to whisper, though still, you do not look to him. “I’m-... I just want you to stay.” 

“Stay or go, it matters not if you refuse to see me now.” A hand touches your arm and gods - his touch feels so real. A shudder ripples through you. 

“You are letting fear and sorrow cast a veil over you,” the Thaumaturge continues. “You must observe things with unclouded vision. See reality for what it is… And let your heart guide you.”

“But this is not real!” 

Your tone is harsh, a blade cutting through the serenity of this dreamscape, and you cannot help but look to him. 

And you see him, fully, there beside you. He does not fade. You do not wake. 

A tear begins to fall and before you can wipe it away, he is there, his lips on your cheek, just at the corner of your mouth. He kisses the tear away. 

When you eventually wake, you can still feel the warmth of him on your skin. 

  
  



	3. Crystal Exarch - A kiss for good luck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For how often he must ask you to risk your life, it is only fair that he sends you off with a bit of luck.

In the blue glow of the Ocular’s portal stands a man. He is garbed in elegance; in robes that drape loosely and flow about his form - like wind, like water, like aether. A cowl hides his features, all but the frown of his lips, illuminated by the serene light of his domain. In his crystalized hand he grips a staff. 

He stands still and solemn, a king in all but title, and even then… 

For but a moment he lets his shoulders relax, his body drooping. Suddenly the robes seem too large, the cowl too heavy, the staff nothing more than a means of keeping an aging man steady. 

He is tired, too tired to be frustrated with himself, and so he exhales only a sigh. 

But he allows this moment, this brief spell of weakness. You are on your way and he has time yet to steel himself for your meeting. For all the times you have been summoned, he has kept track, learned to count your steps. He knows when you will reach the Dossal Gate, the exact moment you will step through the door. He does not watch you, though he could; he simply knows. 

And so by the time the Crystarium Guard lets you in, the Crystal Exarch once again stands tall and sturdy. 

You cannot know the weight he bears; you only wonder if this strange man ever sleeps. 

This is not the first time he has asked you to risk your life, to fight for a world that is not yours; and with the deepest regret, he knows this will not be the last. 

But you always accept, because by now you have learned there is rarely another choice. 

If he had another option, the Exarch would give it to you. Even now, without a choice, he would accept your hesitance; he would accept if you refused. He would find another way, somehow. 

And you know this. Without it being explicitly spoken, you know the Exarch expects only as much as you are willing to give. 

Perhaps that is why you accept his requests, dangerous and tiring as they may be. 

It is with a smile that you turn to leave, but before you can reach the door you hear the sound of sandaled feet moving swiftly after you, and the Exarch’s voice calling out.

“Wait!” he says and you pause, turn, just as he reaches for your hand. His fingers - his real fingers, not of the hand made of crystal - are warm and surprisingly tender. 

There is a moment of quiet. He gives your hand a fond squeeze and you search the shadows beneath his cowl, seeking something more than his lips; they are slightly parted, his words frozen on his tongue. Your eyes cannot pierce those heavy shadows, cannot see the eyes that watch you, nor the full face of the man who has become such a close friend. 

Or perhaps more than a friend, for you are aware that his touch both warms and chills you, kindling in you something both new and foreign. 

“Forgive me,” the Exarch says quietly, his voice a breath of a laugh. “I only wished to say… Good luck.” 

You expect him to release you, to turn back to his portal, yet you are keenly aware that something has shifted. 

So is he as he lingers, judging the moment, debating silently with himself. 

It is not a moment he allows to drag on or slip away, and so a decision is made quickly. You do not know it, but it has been so long since he acted with reckless abandon, and even now he is not so sure his actions are reckless at all. 

Still, you are not prepared for him to lean forward, for the fabric of his hood to caress your cheeks, for his lips to find the corner of yours. Later you will berate yourself, believing you could have caught a glimpse of his face while he was so close. 

But for now you are too taken by the moment to care. 

It is a gentle, caring and nervous kiss, all at once. His lips linger just long enough to suggest he would give you more and yet refrains. If you were less stunned, perhaps you would kiss him back, but by the time the idea enters your muddled mind, he has pulled away. 

“For luck,” he says, a sheepish smile now gracing the lips that only just graced you. 

He lets go of your hand and turns away, his steps slow and tired. 


	4. Lyse - As a promise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You make a promise to Lyse and in turn, she makes one to you.   
> May the Gods see that both promises are kept. 
> 
> (Stormblood spoilers)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to preface this one by saying that it was one of the hardest for me to write. It's possible I didn't capture Lyse's personality very well. It's also possible that I forgot and miswrote anything that happened at the end of Stormblood. I am sorry if either case is true!

Twice, Zenos yae Galvus has challenged you in brutal combat. 

Twice, the Viceroy of Ala Mhigo has left you on your knees, weak and beaten. 

But now he stands before you, withdrawing from your battle in wake of his falter, and he laughs. His laughter carries in the empty throne room, echoing against the high walls. It settles in your mind, low and deadly. 

It is the laughter of a madman and it will never leave you. 

The Garlean Prince turns away, having invited you to join him in the menagerie above, and you are suddenly alone.

Alone, save with the laughter. 

You do not follow, not yet. You hesitate, curse yourself for not killing him before he could withdraw. Now the fight must continue and in the depths of your heart you know Zenos will not lose easily. 

You wonder what horror awaits you in the rooftop garden, but your imaginings are silenced by a new sound. 

Gone is the echo of his laughter. Now the hall is filled with the faintest shuffle of slippered feet, the whisper of soft silk moving swiftly across stone. 

You do not need to look to know it is her; no other woman would dare wear such garments of Ala Mhigan elegance in the heart of such a deadly battle. 

“Where is he!?” 

You turn to watch her approach, a storm of crimson and gold. The blue of her eyes has darkened in wake of the fight outside, reflecting the violent fury and passion that has led her to your side now. 

“Lyse…” you murmur, momentarily awed by the powerful sight of her. 

For a moment the storm in her gaze parts and you glimpse a hint of a tender heart; of a woman who’s strength remains ever kindled by her overwhelming love. It is the love for her homeland and people that has brought her this far, but it is the love for you that brings her to your side now. 

She reaches for your hand, passing those blue eyes quickly over you to search for injuries. 

But you are not wounded and you are alive, and this is enough for her. 

“Where is Zenos yae Galvus?” she asks again, her tone softer, even as the storm returns to cloud her vision. 

“He has gone to the menagerie,” you answer. “He… seeks to fight me there.” 

Lyse lifts her gaze to the ceiling, above which waits the garden and Zenos. 

“Well you’re not going up there alone.” She releases you and turns her gaze in the direction Zenos departed. Determined as ever, Lyse begins to step away, but you are quick to grab her again. 

“No, Lyse-” You grow quiet as she turns sharply to face you, her eyes narrowed. Of course she won’t let you go alone without a fight; she couldn’t make this easy for you. 

And so you fix the blonde with a firm glare of your own, transforming into the solemn and stoic adventurer she once knew you as. 

“No?” she repeats, almost challengingly. “And you think you can stop me? I’m going with you and that’s final.” 

She is strong and tries to pull away from you, but her force is matched equally by your own; you do not let go. 

But you know that force alone will not convince her to stay behind, and so reluctantly you soften your grip and gaze. 

“Please, I need you to stay. Zenos won’t allow you there, this is… He’s so intent on fighting me, alone. I don’t know what he would do if-”

“I don’t care what he wants or what he’d do.” She holds her glare for a brief spell before looking away with a frustrated huff. “But fine, I won’t follow.” 

You let her go now, a breath of relief escaping your lips. “Thank you, Lyse.” 

“But you’d better promise me you’ll finish this and come back alive!” Her eyes are on you again, but this time the glare has been replaced by a look of desperation. You are stunned to silence by her request, by the sudden need in it, and as you fail to respond, she reaches for your shoulders. Her grip is hard, as if she is scared that releasing you will make you fade forever. 

“Promise me!” she repeats her forceful plea. The storm in her eyes has shifted again, but now it threatens to unleash a downpour. 

“I promise,” you whisper. 

She closes her eyes and breathes in and out, slow and steady. Her grip on you remains, but she relaxes her hold as she composes herself. 

You know that time is running out. Zenos is waiting and every second you stay in the throne room only prolongs his end.

Or yours, for at this point you are no longer sure who will come out the victor, despite your promise to Lyse. 

It is this thought that urges you to mimic her stance, placing your hands on her shoulders. Her eyes open at your touch and search your own. 

“If something happens…” You begin, but already she shakes her head. 

“No. No, don’t you do that, don’t you dare!”

“Lyse…” You are calm and so she tries to stay calm for you, but the moisture in her eyes remains. “If something happens and I don’t make it, I need you to stay strong. Okay? I need you to focus on the battle but stay safe. If things change, if they start to push us back… Just make sure you live to lead another day. Keep the fight going.” 

Gods, how she wants to protest and resist! For a moment she looks away, her eyes closing tight. It takes everything in her to hold back, to keep from denying the possibility that you might not defeat Zenos. But somehow she manages and when her eyes open, when she looks at you again, they are clear. She does not cry, she does not hide behind a storm. She stares at you, firm and solemn, a leader whether she longs to be or not. 

“I promise,” Lyse says, and with her promise she places her lips against yours. 

There is no time to fully enjoy the moment. 

Her kiss seals her promise to you and yours to her, and when it is done - when you part - she lets you go. 

And she does not follow. 


	5. Hien - A kiss in secret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a secret kiss, a kiss in the shadows.

It is a quiet night. A cool and calm night. The perfect night for a celebration to mark a new era for Doma. The sounds of music drift from the Enclave Yard, carrying with them the scent of hot, freshly cooked food. The vendors and cooks are busy, for there are many foreign visitors wandering the Enclave, eager for a taste of Doma. 

And freedom makes everything taste much sweeter. 

But you do not walk beneath the paper lanterns. You do not leisurely pass by the stalls, sampling the delicacies, admiring the skill of handcrafted goods. You do not wait in excited anticipation for Lord Hien to make his appearance, to give a speech that so many have traveled to hear. 

You keep to the shadowed gardens beyond the main walls, just out of sight, and wait. 

The wind moves through, teasing the blushing cherry trees that grow here. For a moment you look up, watching the branches sway, the petals tremble. Some of them break and drift, one falling - careful and weightless - just beside your foot. 

You bend down to retrieve it and - upon rising - rub it between your thumb and forefinger. 

It is smooth and velvet soft, almost as soft as the gentle gaze watching you from the nearby wall. 

You do not notice him until the wind picks up again, pulling the petal from your fingers. You watched it hover towards the wall, upon which sits a shadowy figure. As the petal nears, he reaches out, catches it, and casually leaps down. His feet, when they hit the ground, are quiet, and for not the first time you marvel at him. 

He steps closer, holds out his hand in offering. His fingers remain curled in, keeping the petal close to his palm. 

It is with a smile that you place your hand carefully over his, and it is with a smile of his own that he opens his hand beneath yours. Between your palms, the petal sits; velvet soft, like a secret, like the first time he touched your hand, touched his lips to yours. 

You both hold it together, even as his other hand gently grabs your chin. The dark strands of his hair dance in the wind as it moves through the garden again, pulling free more petals, twirling them around you. 

But neither of you notice. How can you, when he leans in just so, when his breath warms your lips, when he whispers against them? You do not know what he says. You cannot hear over the music and laughter across the wall. 

When the kiss ends - too soon, always too soon - you exhale a soft, wanting sigh. 

“Your people need you, Lord Hien,” you say, quietly. 

“So they do,” he answers. 

He would stay there with you all night if he could, but you know his heart lies first with his people, and you do not mind sharing it with Doma. You do not mind being his secret. 

For now, you both have your own duties. For now, he must see to the rebuilding of his kingdom. 

For now, you will remain his kiss in the shadows. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lord Hien... You were a tough one to write about! I hope this is okay! I feel like someone who knows & writes Lord Hien more often may have done him better justice, but I did my best !


	6. Prompt List!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not a real chapter, but a list of potential options for future chapters!

**EDIT:** Okay, so I got way more requests than I expected! I've made a list and will finish them in order. If you requested multiple prompts, I may just pick one at first and then do others later after I've gone through the list. I am not a fast writer and with the Corona virus situation, things are really stressful and uncertain in my personal life. Because of that I won't be adding more requests to my list, but there's a chance I'll do more once I get through these. I'm sorry if it takes me a while to finish! Please stay safe and practice good and healthy habits!

I'm sad to say that the previous chapter was the last request I received on Twitter! This was a really fun experiment, even if I learned that some characters are much harder for me to write than others. This is also something I would like to continue for the practice. Because of that, I'm going to post the prompt list here. 

But anyway, the prompts, which came from Tumblr user grey-wardens-dont-have-dental:

**A Ship & A kiss **

  1. Good morning.
  2. Good night.
  3. Goodbye.
  4. Where it hurts.
  5. Where it doesn't hurt.
  6. On a falling tear.
  7. To shut them up.
  8. In secrecy.
  9. In public.
  10. Desperately.
  11. In joy.
  12. In grief.
  13. Discreetly.
  14. Casually.
  15. Passionately.
  16. Lazily.
  17. To distract.
  18. As encouragement.
  19. For luck.
  20. On a scar.
  21. On a place of insecurity.
  22. In a rush of adrenaline.
  23. In relief.
  24. In danger.
  25. As a 'yes'.
  26. As an apology.
  27. As a suggestion.
  28. As a lie.
  29. As a promise.
  30. As a comfort.
  31. After a small rejection.
  32. To wake up.
  33. Forcefully.
  34. To pretend.
  35. To gain something.
  36. To give up control.
  37. Without a motive.
  38. Because they're running out of time.
  39. Because time's run out.
  40. Because the world is ending.
  41. Because the world is saved.
  42. Out of pride.
  43. Out of greed.
  44. Out of lust.
  45. Out of anger.
  46. Out of envy or jealousy (feel free to specify!)
  47. Out of spite.
  48. Out of habit.
  49. Out of necessity.
  50. Out of love.




	7. Yugiri - Forcefully

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh, to be kissed by the sea and shadows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! I haven't forgotten or abandoned this!! I ended up with a much larger list of requests than I expected and then Covid-19 came'a knockin'... I haven't been sick and neither has anyone I live with, but it has certainly changed things in my daily life and it's been a real struggle to keep up with responsibilities (and my sanity)! So I apologize for how painfully long it's taking me to write these. Because of this, I can't guarantee I'll take on any new requests. I'll keep writing them down and if the time and inspiration allow, I will write them. For now, I'm going to focus on the requests I was sent before. 
> 
> Thanks so much for reading!

Silver moonlight dances over the surface as the waves roll in. By the time they reach the shore, they move slow and gentle, growling as they meet the soft sand and kiss it with salty foam. You and the moon are the only witnesses of this union. 

But unbeknownst to you, another watches from the shadows.

They are silent as they move, even without the ocean to mask their footfalls. Beneath their feet, the sand barely gives, leaving only the slightest hint of a print. They are too careful, too swift, and as they pass behind you, you feel only the slightest rush of a gentle breeze. 

Your mind is distant. In darker times, this would be unwise, but for the moment Doma has earned a bit of respite; a night of peace. This comforts you as you sit by on the shore, watching the waves sneak up and stretch around you. The water is cold when it touches your skin, but you do not mind.

Somewhere, beneath the waves, nestled at the bottom of the sea, lies a civilization. 

They are not of Doma. 

A smile teases your lips as you think of that place and in particular of a couple who resides in the Ruby Sea. You remember their faces, their relief to know their daughter is alive and well. And you remember her eyes when you spoke of them, the way they brightened and exposed a brief and vulnerable longing…

You cherish that moment, that tether of joy and love that passed from Yugiri’s parents and to their daughter, with you as the vessel and conduit. You are thinking of this and smiling, and thus you do not hear the steps as they move closer. Even if you were not so distracted, your ears would never have picked up the sound. 

She’s just too damn good. 

Before you know it there are hands on you, pushing you down into the sand and water. It is so sudden, so quick that you can barely register if you are being attacked or not. 

And then she is moving again, this shadow that has so effortlessly leaped from the darkness to pin you down. Seawater kisses your cheek, soaks your hair. The sand beneath you is still soft, even as her lips fall hard and forcefully upon yours. 

There is a moment, a half-second, where you think this kiss will last. 

But then the shinobi pulls away with a low and teasing chuckle. 

You are still stunned, still lying in the sand and water, when she rises and vanishes into the darkness again; leaving you with a heavy longing and the taste of salt on your tongue. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To the person who requested this one, I hope this was okay! Thank you for the request!


End file.
